


after it all, you look after me

by akissontitan



Category: The Penumbra Podcast
Genre: Nonbinary Juno, Other, overwhelmingly gay and sappy bc its 2018 and this is how we're living, trans man Peter
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-03
Updated: 2018-01-03
Packaged: 2019-02-27 14:12:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 1,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13249893
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/akissontitan/pseuds/akissontitan
Summary: Peter's hands hold his shoulder and hip like he’s being baptised, or worshipped, or stolen. It’s enough to make his spine shiver. It’s enough to make him feel worth taking.A collection of short and largely nsfw post-canon drabbles for my penumbra holiday gift exchange recipient!! Notes and warnings at the beginning of each chapter.





	1. got you

“I’ve got you,” Peter says, and Juno believes him.

The silicone of his cock presses a cool line into the junction of Juno’s thigh as Peter eases him back onto the mattress, hands on his shoulder and his hip like he’s being baptised, or worshipped, or stolen. It’s enough to make his spine shiver. It’s enough to make him feel worth taking.

Peter brings him from half-hard to gasping in what feels like only a few seconds of contact, lithe fingers exploring the skin under his skirt like it’s something brand new.

“ _Nureyev_ ,” Juno tries, but his attempt at bite comes out as a warbled sigh when Peter brings their dicks together and strokes them both with a spit-slick palm. Flesh against plastic against Peter’s heightened breaths, Juno can’t find any more words.

While Peter’s eyes are squeezed shut, his perfectly painted bottom lip worrying between his teeth, Juno lets himself stare. Memorises the blush that blooms from his neck; one thin arm bracing him above Juno, close enough to kiss. The sliver of his smooth cock when he glances between them.

When Peter shudders and squeezes them both, Juno’s vision blurs. “Gorgeous,” Peter breathes into his neck, “ _gorgeous_ , my goddess, I can’t- I’ll get you off first, I’ll–”

Juno’s ears burn as he cuts him short with a kiss. He reaches between them, nudging Peter’s hand away until he can run his fingers down the shaft of Peter’s cock, all the way to between his legs.

“’S alright,” he manages, barely enough words in his head to speak between kisses, “I’ve got you too.”


	2. before

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before Juno and Peter met, so not specifically jupeter, buuut..... I like it too much to not include, lmao :')
> 
> Warnings: Pretty plainly d/s, but ~imagined~

He knows it’s due time to get fucked, when he gets like this - the fist around his dick a little too tight, the fingers at his chest leaving harsh crescent burns - but there’s no one around to do the job but himself, so Juno squeezes his eyes shut and leans back against the couch like there’s a pressure making him do it.

A foot on his chest, he thinks. Heels, he imagines, attached to long legs and a well-pressed outfit and a sneer. Somebody _strict_. He doesn’t bother to conjure the rest of the details. It’s enough that they hate him, and want him, and hate him.

When he thinks of them holding him by the hips, keeping him _in place_ , it makes his dick jump in his hand. When he brings his free hand to his throat, presses down just below his jaw, he keens like there’s an audience, and _oh_ , that’s a thought.

Figures in the shadows of his imagined peripheral. _Good boy_ ’s and _pretty girl_ 's hitting him like lashings. Juno feels every spark of blood in his veins and fucks his fist like how his imagined dominatrix would punish him, and comes with a hoarse gasp into his palm.

It’s a few seconds before he can open his eyes, and even then, the lingering cotton in his mind urges him to lick his dirtied hand clean to impress the someone he’s made up.

Instead, he exhales hard, finds a napkin, and hopes someone interesting comes his way soon.


	3. collar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: lite d/s with lite aftercare!

Peter takes the collar from Juno’s neck with quick, cool fingers. The air feels good on the skin there, but better still is Peter’s lips when they kiss a gentle circle over his adam’s apple, around his jaw, along the pulse point. Juno keeps his eyes closed, not tired but exhausted and _sated_ , and breathes deep the scent of Peter’s cologne.

“You were magnificent, darling,” comes Peter’s voice from just under Juno’s ear, “my sweet thing. So lovely for me.”

One day, Peter will use up all the pet names in the whole galaxy, and _then_ where will they be, Juno thinks but doesn’t say. He lets himself come back to his body in waves of exhales, focuses on the tingling in his toes and the calm of his spine and his neck, his _neck_ , where Peter kisses fresh raw skin and days-old lovebites better.

When the jelly feeling leaves his arms, Juno draws one around Peter’s back, and when Peter giggles he feels the breath against his clavicle.

“It’s alright, gorgeous one. I’m not going anywhere.”


	4. prettied up

Peter wakes to the sensation of a smooth cheek coming to rest against his breast, and his hand is halfway to his nearest knife before he recognises the scent of the body wash he donated to Juno’s empty shower caddy weeks ago.

His startle doesn’t go unnoticed - Juno stares him down with a raised brow from the pillow he’s made of Peter’s chest, and Peter returns it with a squinting glare, not only due to being without his glasses.

“You… shaved.” He tries to keep his voice neutral, light, but Juno sees right through him, as he’s gotten so infuriatingly good at.

“You don’t like it, huh?” Juno presses a kiss - _too soft, no graze of familiar stubble_ \- to Peter’s bare sternum, but their eyes stay locked.

A little more awake now, Peter manages not to fluster. “No no, dear, there’s nothing you could do to that pretty face I wouldn’t like. It’s simply… _different_ , this clean-shaven, freshly-showered Juniper of mine.”

He reaches to tuck a curl back into its place, and Juno turns his face in that way Peter has learnt means he’s blushing under that dark skin.

“Woke up early, and I was thinkin’,” and there’s the breathless embarrassment Peter loves so much, “if I cleaned myself up for you, maybe you could… rough me up again.”

Peter can’t stand not kissing him any longer. He draws Juno close and tastes toothpaste on his tongue, inhales the deep perfume carefully dabbed on his neck.

“I’m afraid I’m morally opposed to destroying beautiful artwork.” Peter whispers, before guiding his lover to the mattress and appraising, appraising.


	5. swap

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i let juno top for once in his miserable life

The first time he fucks Peter, Juno can barely do more than sit there and shake, melting into the couch with Peter his lap and wrapped around every inch of him.

Peter isn’t much better off, Juno intuits with a certain kind of delirium. He’d coaxed Juno onto the cushions with _I want this, I want this_ , and _missed you too much to wait_ , but he’s quiet now; fingers on his own wet dick, shifting his hips in tight little circles that make Juno feel electric, and gasping tiny, breakable sounds. Juno would hold him, if only his arms would work, but his muscles feel stuck in the current Peter generates.

“Trust you,” Peter starts, breaking his heartbeat rhythm for a moment. Like it costs him nothing to gasp it into Juno’s temple like that.

Juno could pretend not to hear, or like he doesn’t understand, and Peter wouldn’t blame him.

He brings shaking hands to Peter’s waist, to the arched line of his back, and lets his sweaty palms speak truths.


	6. good girl

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: spanking and gender

It feels like Peter is exhaling for him; unspooling Juno Steel and coiling him up neater with each sharp slap. Being laid across his lap and punished with a palm, rewarded with fingers, punished again. Juno feels perfectly solid. No air in his lungs to help him float, only Peter’s cologne and his palm and his fingers. Only Peter.

Three fingers thrust inside him and Juno could _scream_ if Peter allowed him the oxygen. He arches towards and bucks away from the touch, the friction of his dick against Peter’s slacks sending him unravelling, threadbare and wanting.

“Good girl,” Peter breathes, satisfied, and oh, that hits Juno in two places, would have his knees shaking if he weren't being held so firmly.

 _Good_ , his mind echoes, as he bites his lip against the sting of Peter's palm; he can be good, for this man, in this way, if not in many other ways.

And _girl_ , which he is not, but he _is_ right now, a lady taken care of how he needs it - Peter's girl, if not anybody else’s.

Peter takes a breath and Juno follows, obedient.


	7. whatever you want

“Are you going to fuck me?” Peter asks, like he’s not that interested in Juno’s answer, like he’d be just as happy to keep sliding those fingers further under his own dress, lie just so on their fancy hotel bed with his ass up and his panties down. “Or do I have to do it myself?”

Juno’s mouth feels dry, mind slow from the bar’s complimentary cocktails, and between those and the way it gets Peter going, he’s starting to think maybe they should pull out the rich-infatuated-honeymooners undercover shtick more often. Not that the lie is too far from their own truth; maybe they’re not quite ready for a honeymoon, and Juno would throw a fit if Peter stole anything big enough to qualify them as _rich_ , but… well.

Juno bunches up the skirt of his own dress so he can crawl onto the plush mattress, dips his head to kiss just below the swell of Peter’s ass. His dick twitches underneath his clothes, Peter so wet and close and beautiful it makes him want to cry, like looking at fine art.

Peter shifts his hips, eager and drunk off success, and Juno _knows_ he should be trying to lead right now, but all he can say is, “Whatever you want.”


	8. rec mode

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warnings: just very dirty

“How do I look?” Peter asks, and shoves Juno’s head forward until he feels silicone in his throat. It _almost_ hurts, but not enough to make him wince. Not enough to interrupt the perfect view of Peter’s flushed cheeks and deep red grin in the Theia’s lens.

Juno mumbles something, incomprehensible garbage even to himself, and pans lower, letting his cybernetic eye trace Peter’s chest, the length of his torso. He wants Peter to fuck more than just his mouth. He wants to feel the ridges of their new toy inside him, the _pull_ as Peter takes him slowly and wholly. The ache of want hurts just as good as the ache in his jaw, making him feel punch-drunk and light. Before his eyes can slip shut, though, Peter gives a warning tug to his hair, and Juno snaps to attention just in time for Peter to pull out of his mouth, push down on the cum tube mechanism, and release, cold and filthy, onto Juno’s waiting face.

He damn near comes too, barely touched and still in his pants, when Peter says, “Oh, princess, there’s some in your lashes…” and leans down close to kiss clean the synthetic eyelashes of the Theia.

Rec mode ends, or maybe he subconsciously ends it, because the view can’t get much better than a shot of Peter sucking the synthetic cum off his painted nails.


	9. rose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> saved possibly my fave til last!

“We’re likely being watched,” Peter whispers, breathes it against the borrowed jewels at Juno’s neck, “can’t risk breaking character just yet, sweetheart.”

Juno, of course, cottons on in an instant; his cybernetic eye glows deeper pink for a moment in a motion Peter’s come to recognise as concentration, detection. Unfaltering, those painted lips curl into Dahlia Rose’s wry smirk, his hands find Peter’s - no, Duke’s - hips, and squeeze.

“Whatever you want, _sweetheart_.” He says, full-volume bravado with barely a hint of uncertainty. Fingers graze his torso as Dahlia brushes them past to unpin his own hair, slip the deep red fabric of his evening dress off a shoulder. “You know I love it when you’re on your knees, like you suggested.”

Cheeky little thing. Peter winks, quick and unnoticeable, and Duke dutifully kisses at the newly exposed portion of Dahlia’s skin before letting his knees buckle, fine Gormindian silk a pleasant friction against plush carpet.

_How far_ , Peter asks with the slightest twitch of his brow. They’re both hard, were _wanting_ far before they made it back to their room, but while Peter has never made his exhibitionist streak a secret, Juno has always countered with /privacy/, awkwardness masked as an attitude problem.

However, when he looks up between kissing the outline of the lace he knows is under that dress, he finds only Dahlia’s painted smirk, telling him, _All the way_.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me [on tumblr @ nixiad](http://nixiad.tumblr.com) or, far more often, on twitter [@ nycreous](http://twitter.com/nycreous). Comments and kudos make my day :^)


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